


The Haunting of Ill House

by PCrabapple



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: Alternate Timeline?, Anal Sex, Canonical Character Death, Ghost Sex, Ghosts, Hand Jobs, Incest, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-21
Updated: 2013-01-13
Packaged: 2017-11-16 18:20:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/542444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PCrabapple/pseuds/PCrabapple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave moves back into his apartment after the game, and tries to deal with his brother's absence. Moving on may be more difficult than he thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Trying my hand at a spooooooooooky Halloween-themed story. I may fail horribly. And it will probably go on way past Halloween
> 
> I sort of made up a bunch of shit about the end of the game and the return to earth that isn't canonical at all and was just a means to age Dave up and all that. I also tend to ignore the alphaverse. Pretend it was written before that got introduced in the comic or something.
> 
> Characters, relationships, and other tags will probably be updated as things go.

Dave knew there was something wrong with the place as soon as he set foot over the threshold, and he knew exactly what it was. It was empty. It was quiet and still and deserted. Of course, that’s how the apartment had appeared countless times when he’d lived here before the game. But he always knew Bro was in the vicinity. Sneaking around like the ninja asshole he was, staying just out of sight and not making the slightest noise. Bro was always there and it was sort of comforting in a weird, creepy way.

But now it was really empty. Bro was dead, and he wasn’t going to pop out from around a corner with his sword drawn, ready to school Dave in the art of surprise attacks. Dave wasn’t going to open a closet door only to be buried under a soft pile of dubious puppet imagery (unless there were still some unsprung traps left over from before). Dave would be well and truly alone. It should have been a relief, but it made his heart ache dully with well-concealed grief.

“Are you sure you want to stay here?” John asked as he poked his head in, “Me and Jade found this couch on the sidewalk. We need to steam-clean it or something but it’s really big and is probably pretty comfortable to sleep on.”

“I don’t wanna live on your pee-couch,” Dave replied, dropping one of the boxes of belongings he’d retained from his years on the meteor, “Bro paid like seven-years rent in advance or some ridiculous shit. I’d be an idiot if I just let the last two years go to waste. And it’s not like I have a job or anything to pay rent anywhere else.”

“We wouldn’t make you pay rent!” John said, putting down another box, “You could just do chores. Sweep and do dishes and stuff. And you could wear like a maid outfit to make it ‘ironic’ or whatever.” 

“I know you wanna see my wicked gams encased in nylon while I wield a feather duster, but it’s not gonna happen, sorry to break your heart.” Dave opened the box and pulled out the page of pink squiggly dick drawings he and Karkat had collaborated on. “I’m gonna blow this up real big and hang it right over there, what d’you think?”

“Gross. Speaking of which, jeez, your brother really had a lot of these things huh?” John said, picking up a cheery yellow smuppet, bending the nose down and then letting go, watching the phallic appendage bounce back.

“Dude, don’t touch that,” Dave snapped, perhaps a little too testily. It wasn’t like these things were some kind of sacred monument. Maybe he could sell them to Bro’s old subscribers or something. If anyone even still visited the site. It had been five years after all. Nice of earth to catch up with the passage of time when it finally came back into existence.

“Sor _ree,_ ” John said with an exaggerated eyeroll, dropping the puppet back to the floor, “Seriously this place is creepy.”

“Watch it man, this place my home,” Dave replied, though he secretly sort of had to agree. It just wasn’t the same without Bro. Never would be. “I’m just gonna run out the lease and save up some money while I don’t have to pay rent.”

“Whatever,” John said, shaking his head as he headed to the door to bring up another box, “But anytime you wanna come crash, me and Jade are just across town, and Rose is even closer.”

“Thanks, I forgot where you lived in the time between leaving there and getting here,” Dave said, adamantly starting to remove things from the box.

\-----

He turned all the lights on as he continued to unpack that night. Music blasting from his room kept competition with the TV playing some crap Dave wasn’t paying attention to. It was just too fucking quiet without the noise, even if it was giving him a bit of a headache. 

Or maybe that had something to do with his brain being taxed by his current quandary. He had tons of stuff from the meteor that he’d grown sort of attached to, and not enough space to put it all in his bedroom. He stood in the doorway to the main room, a hand on the gold trimmed, throne-like chair he’d refused to leave behind. It would go great in the corner but...

But this was Bro’s room, always had been. It felt kinda wrong to just start putting his own shit in here. Then again, Bro was gone. Wasn’t coming back this time. The whole apartment was more or less Dave’s now. There was no reason to keep all of Bro’s possessions around if they were just going to make him feel sort of sad. Sad was not a cool thing to be. 

Ugh. He was such a pussy. Dave rubbed at the bridge of his nose, telling himself to pull it together. He’d managed to get through 5 years without mourning, and now he couldn’t deal with a few smuppets because they reminded him of his dickwad of a dead brother?

He’d start selling all this stuff tomorrow. Bro’s turntable set was probably worth a fortune. Not to mention his collection of rare vinyl. And if he could sell off this fuckton of smuppets, he’d be rolling in dough, no need to find a job just yet. He could just work on his music and try to make a name for himself.

With determination borne on his formulating plan, Dave dragged the chair into the room. He kicked a few smuppets out of the way and set it in place. Yes. He was the king of the apartment now. It was him. 

He left the TV on, as well as the bathroom light when he went to sleep; his first night in his old bed in half a decade. His feet almost hung off the edge now. He’d have to get a more grown-up sleeping arrangement soon. Or he could always use the futon. He rolled over uncomfortably at that thought. Maybe he’d just find a cheap king-size on the internet.

He focused on the muffled droning of the TV as he drifted to sleep. It was just like the noise that used to lull him into unconsciousness when Bro stayed up late before the game. But that wasn’t why Dave kept it on. He’d grown used to the dull hum that had seemed to permeate the meteor over the years. Couldn’t sleep without it, he sleepily insisted to himself. That was all...

\-----

_He was on the edge of the roof, looking out across the dark cityscape. It was vague but familiar, a sight he hadn’t seen for years but had seen a million times before that. He looked over the lip of the building, feeling the old, dizzying sensation of vertigo take hold. He teetered on the edge, stomach dropping. He hadn’t had this dream in ages, but he knew what came next. He shut his eyes._

_“Dave,” came a voice; faint, far away, and unmistakable. He opened his eyes, staring blurrily at the ground a million miles below. This hadn’t happened before. He felt his chest seize with something like dread._

_“Dave,” the voice came again, still distant. But a second later he felt a hand on his shoulder; cold, heavy, tight. Dave lost the ability to breathe._

_Now his brother’s voice was directly in his ear, breath icy against his cheek._

_“Don’t touch my shit.”_  
\-----


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm attempting a slow build kind of thing. I really hope it doesn't just come off as boring.

“GUH!”

He woke with a start, complete with cold sweat and undignified exclamation. He gazed up at the ceiling, confused and out of sorts as the residual anxiety from the dream slowly seeped out of reality. His ragged breathing was the only sound that interrupted the silence, and it unnerved him for some reason he couldn’t put his finger on.

Holy shit. He hadn’t had a real dream (one that wasn’t just some weird form of astral projection, one his actual brain made up) in years. It had been vivid as hell too. He could hear the echo of those words in his mind, feel the cold breath on his cheek.

Wait, no, he was just laying under the air vent. They must have finally upgraded the A/C sometime before his return. It was fucking freezing. He’d fix the thermostat tomorrow. His dimly glowing iPhone (now horrifically out of date) on the nightstand said it wasn’t even 4AM yet. Climate control and creepy dreams could fuck right off, he had some snoozing to catch up on. Without much more thought on the matter in his exceptionally groggy state, Dave rolled over, pulling his blanket up to protect him from the draught, and went back to sleep.

\-----

Despite his prior conviction, Dave didn’t start selling Bro’s things right away. And it wasn’t for any specific reason. Okay, sure, that dream had been weird as hell, but he hadn’t been back here in ages. All this sudden thought about the place and the guy who filled it up with weird shit was bound to bring up some bizarre subconscious imagery. Rose would probably confirm the notion if he had a mind to ask (he didn’t).

Anyway, he couldn’t sell anything until he had it all organized. He couldn’t just say “Huge pile of assorted weaponry, records, and suggestive plush toys for sale, will accept best offer.” He’d get way underbid if he didn’t sort and appraise everything. It was a big task, and so it was easy to procrastinate. There were a lot of internet memes to catch up on, shitty reality shows to discover, and new music to sample. He didn’t start really looking into clearing the place out for a week or two.

He let Bro’s turntable rig stay as it was for even longer. It wasn’t like he was afraid of repercussion from touching the forbidden objects. There wasn’t anyone to kick his ass for it anymore. It was just...The rule had been so deeply ingrained in him that he couldn’t go near that corner of the room without feeling a twinge of guilt, like he was doing something he shouldn’t. 

It was fucking stupid and he resented it like crazy, but he didn’t have any particular rush to sell stuff. He had enough money for food for a good while and the rent and utilities had been paid. It wasn’t until he got sick of looking at all this puppet crap that he redoubled his efforts.

“Jesus Christ I think this guy coulda been on Hoarders. I mean I get it bros need hats but how many do you really need? Don’t think I ever saw him wearing anything but the grey one anyway. Like these even have the tags on ‘em. Oh well more money in the bank. Stack these hats to stack that cash.”

It was pretty ridiculous how much crap his brother had accumulated. Without it the apartment would probably look twice as big. Until Dave finished unpacking all the stuff he’d brought back that was sitting in the hall, that was.

“Wonder if I should do a separate listing for swords and throwing weapons. They’re both of equal shittiness, but I guess one of them is way easier to lose. Should probably separate the batarangs at least, I mean that’s for like a whole different type of nerd.”

He kept the television on all the time. From the early morning kids shows to the late night infomercials. At around 4am it would turn off automatically and Dave couldn’t find the sleep timer settings, but it wasn’t that big a hassle. He was usually asleep by then and he could just flip it back on if he wasn’t.

“Fuck, if this Hustlin’ Fuzz poster didn’t have a letter opener jammed through it it’d probably fetch a pretty-ass penny. I mean seriously is there anyone else in the world that has one of these? Guess I’ll just trash it. How does a bee even smoke weed? Does he just have to wait for the irresponsible beekeeper to come around and smoke him out with one of those beekeeper smoke can things? God this thing is coming down and being burned ASAP. Wonder if any of the fireworks are still-”

The lights went out. He could hear the record player slowing in his room, the vocals deepening and distorting as the plate came to a gradual stop.

That wasn’t really that surprising, Dave reasoned. He had all the lights on, the TV going, his computer whirring away and his turntables whirling some vinyl. The fridge or the A/C had probably tried to kick on and caused a power overload. 

Dave stepped off of the chair he was using to take down the poster and peered around in the darkness. 

“What the shit, where’s the circuit breaker? What does a circuit breaker even look like? Where’s Kanaya when you need her? Pressing questions here.” He pushed his shades up onto his forehead as his rhetorical questions went unanswered in the silence.

Jesus it was quiet. Of course it had to be night time when this happened. Dave got his iPhone out, pulled up the flashlight app and shined the diffuse beam into the dark. He spotted a metal rectangle in the wall near the gigantic turntable layout.

“What am I even supposed to do with a circuit breaker? Am I gonna have to cut any confusingly colored wires?” he wondered aloud as he approached the box, ignoring the prickle up his spine, the hair standing on the back of his neck as he got nearer to his brother’s sacred mixing station. 

“Ow, fuck!” he tripped over the claw foot of the chair he’d brought back, its presence not a part of his deeply-memorized layout of the apartment. He sprawled and caught himself on the corner of the turntables, jarring it. It knocked against the wall with a loud bump and he could feel his stomach twisting. 

Oh god. He panicked, his thoughts snapping to how pissed off Bro was going to be when he turned it on and found it out of balance and the sliders all messed up. Oh fuck he was so dead. 

No. 

No, Bro was dead. Dave was alive and being stupid. “You fucking idiot,” he muttered, trying to calm himself down. The reaction, the spike of fear, was automatic, thanks to years of training. Pavlovian, Rose might say. He really wished he could stop thinking about what Rose might say. 

He chastised himself repeatedly as he held tighter onto the edge of the turntables, leaning over them to reach the breaker box and open it up. He didn’t have to worry about this anymore. He could jam the fuck out on this thing if he wanted to. But first things first.

He flipped the breaker switches one by one, relaxing by degrees as different sections of the apartment lit up, as the cacophony of sound he used to keep himself distracted resumed. He considered giving the turntables a try, but after a moment he shied away. He returned to his previous task of taking down posters instead, trashing the damaged ones and rolling up the good ones. He could check it out later. He didn’t even know how to work it, after all.

\--------

_He was on the edge of the roof again, watching the toes of his sneakers hanging out over the nothingness. He closed his eyes, feeling his balance start to tilt over the point of no return._

_The cold grip on his shoulder again, stopping him just before the beginning of the plummet. He tried to turn around but couldn’t, unable to look at anything but the abyss below._

_“Think you can just mess with my things?” said the voice in his ear as another hand laid itself on his body, sliding over his chest to hold him up. His heart raced against the icy touch, electric sparks flying up his spine as he was sandwiched between dead hands and a solid, still surface behind him._

_He tried with all his might to turn, to wrench himself free from the grip, but it was like he was paralyzed._

_“Since when were you allowed to manhandle my stuff?”_

_Dave opened his mouth, wanting to defend himself. To tell Bro that he was dead, it wasn’t his stuff anymore. But nothing came out except a helpless, weak whimper as the hands moved lower._

_“Let’s see how you like it.”_


	3. Chapter 3

He managed to only let out a gasp this time as his eyes flew open to more darkness. His brain took a bit longer to reorganize itself this time, his nerves still tingling from the phantom touch.

His body gave a violent shiver, and he discovered that he’d managed to kick the blanket all the way off the bed. Still had to fix that fucking thermostat. As he sat up to find the cover he made another discovery, a prominent tent in his boxers. Jesus, really?

Maybe that explained the weird turn the dream had taken. He’d gotten a slumberboner and thus things started getting a little more handsy, so to speak. He didn’t want to consider the possibility that it was the other way around, and the dream had caused the erection. That would get into a whole chicken and egg scenario that it was way too early to deal with.

Dave idly rubbed at his insistent dick through the fabric, wondering if he should bother to take care of it right now. In his old life he’d had to be as discreet as possible, hiding a box of tissues under his bed, chewing his tongue to keep quiet as he cranked it in the dead of night under the blanket.

But now he was alone, he could jerk off in front of the TV if he so desired, 1080porn in lifesize widescreen. He felt almost giddy at this realization and rolled out of bed to try it out, pushing the dream as far out of his mind as possible. 

It was absurdly early, but whatever, he was wide awake now with a boner that wouldn’t quit. Dave draped his blanket over his shoulders and padded into the living room. He flopped down onto the futon in front of the still playing television and continuing to knead at his cock. There was a definite rush of adrenaline from doing this here in the open, despite there being absolutely no danger. He’d double and triple-checked the apartment for webcams the first week he was here and taken them all down.

He flipped through channels, trying to find something suitable. Finally he came to rest on some kind of infomercial for a rather suggestive piece of exercise equipment that made the chicks using it look like they were riding a dick. It wasn’t real porn, but it was sort of ironic and he wasn’t going to look up the code for Cinemax or the Spice Network right now. He muted the volume, not giving a shit about which glutes and buns the machine worked and tossed the remote aside.

He licked his lips and watched the rhythmic up and down motion of countless women burning calories and objectifying themselves. Once he’d teased himself thoroughly Dave pulled his pulsing erection through the slit in his boxers and spit on his hand. There was a prickling sensation on the back of his neck as he wrapped it around himself and he tried to ignore the feeling that he was being watched.

_Think you can just manhandle my stuff? Let’s see how you like it._

Wow nope. He opened his eyes, which he’d somehow allowed to fall shut and stared hard at the infinite parade of thighs opening and closing, up and down, up and down. He slowed down, matching the pace and thought about the clumsy fumblings he and Terezi had managed to engage in before that whole situation had taken a downward turn.

His breath became more labored, and he suddenly regretted turning the volume down. It was too fucking quiet again, and it was starting to creep him out.

_Let’s see how you like it._

_Those cold hands making their way down, slowly but surely, down, down, down._

No! He snapped his eyes open again. He’d locked this particular flavor of fantasizing down in solitary confinement long ago once he’d come to terms with how fucked up it was. It had received a life sentence when Bro had died. No way these incestuous thoughts were coming back now.

He chewed on his lip with the effort of staying focused on the screen, with thinking of Terezi’s clawed hand wrapping nervously around him. He let out a small groan, just to fill the oppressive silence, pulled the blanket up around his neck when he got another creeping chill that made goosebumps break out on his heated skin.

_Terezi, vaginas, thighs, toned glutes, firm asses, Terezi, vaginas, tits, tits, vaginas, Terezi, god, almost._

He was moaning loudly now just to hear himself, his fist flying over his erection as he stared at the television, the hypnotic movement of “real customer” after “real customer”

He was biting into his tongue as the familiar feeling of rapidly approaching orgasm came over him, almost there- when the screen went black.

He let out a cry of exasperation (fucking sleep timer!) and gave up. It was too much effort to keep his mind in check. 

He keeled over onto his side, breathing hard as he thought about Bro’s hands on him, holding his back to his chest, breathing over him as he stroked hard and fast, merciless. Fuck, he could almost feel lips on his shoulder. 

_Let’s see how you like it._

He came with his face pressed into the futon cushion, his voice muffled by the fabric that.....holy shit, still smelled like his brother. Oh fuck, this was so fucking bad. But right now he didn’t care, all he wanted was to continue pumping spurts of semen out, and shit he’d forgotten a tissue, Bro was going to be pissed when he found the stains. 

His cock gave a final, listless twitch as it drooled the last bit of jizz out. As the euphoria ebbed away and he realized what he’d been thinking about he let out another groan of frustration. No, Bro wasn’t going to be pissed. He was fucking dead. Dead forever and ever and ever and fucking ever. He had to get ahold of himself.

Dave shut his eyes and took a deep breath, finally taking his hand off his limp dick. He curled up in the blanket, feeling cold again. He didn’t want to think about this anymore, and luckily his body did him a favor for once, the post orgasmic lethargy whisking him fairly quickly into dreamless sleep.

\-----

The television was back on when he woke up hours later, the volume at its previous low, comforting level. Dave slowly lifted himself up, confused about why he was in the living room for a moment. Then he recalled and felt a sick twist of shame as he looked down at the stains on the carpet and the edge of the futon, the head of his penis stuck to his boxers by a dried bit of semen. Fucking gross. 

Not to mention that he’d been thinking about Bro when he came, inhaling his lingering scent from the futon and imagining him touching him with hands that he couldn’t think of as anything but cold and dead now. 

That was it, he decided. He had to get rid of all this shit as soon as possible. Once it was all out of here he could stop thinking about this and get back to living a normal life and repressing his years-old crush on his dead older brother.

He lifted a hand to rub at his eyes, noticed that it had a definite crusty quality to it, made a disgusted noise, and headed to the bathroom. No more jerking off without tissues anymore either.

\-----

Getting all of Bro’s stuff out of the apartment turned out to be harder than he’d imagined, even after he’d gotten over his initial nervousness about touching his brother’s stuff.

For one, the smuppets seemed to be infesting the place like rats. He just kept finding them, even places where he thought he’d already checked. He spent more time than he’d ever wanted to under the futon, which had a really annoying fucking habit of falling open and hitting him on the ass while he was reaching for yet another phallic-nosed playmate. 

“Ugh fuck where are these things even coming from? Do they breed? How does that work? Why am I asking when I never, ever, ever want to know?” he said as he pulled a blue puppet out from behind the toilet. 

Another holdup came when he tried to log on to Bro’s computer. Try as he might, he couldn’t remember the password. It was pretty fucking embarrassing, especially since it hadn’t really been a secret to begin with, but it had been five years after all. 

He couldn’t sell the smuppets unless he could get to Bro’s plushrump files and promote them on his site. He was starting to think he might have to just put the damn things on craigslist and hope for the best. And if that didn’t work just drop them off at a donation center and haul ass before anyone could ask questions. It was not an appealing prospect, but at this point he was more worried about getting Bro’s stuff out of here than making money.

The weaponry was the easiest to sell, and of course the least profitable. It was all more or less damaged and pretty shitty to begin with. Luckily there were plenty of idiots who didn’t know how to tell a good sword from a bad one willing to buy them at the rock bottom prices Dave was selling at. 

Except for his own alchemized collection, he managed to sell it all within a day or two. When he shut the door on the last gullible customer he had to congratulate himself on at least getting something done. The apartment already looked better, at least less dangerous, and he fell asleep that night planning which specimens from his insect collection he was going to hang in the main room.

\-----

_The same dream. The same vertigo, the same stop just before he started to fall._

_“You trying to forget me?” said his brother’s voice, chill as ever with the slightest hint of indignation. The hands were bolder this time as they trailed down Dave’s chest, one going up under his shirt while the other boldly made its way towards his crotch. He shuddered at coldness of the touch, but once again found he couldn’t move in any voluntary way._

_“Seems pretty futile, the way you were thinkin’ about me the other night.”_

_No, he wanted to protest, that was your fault; you turned the TV off and made me think about you. He felt helpless, ashamed, and undeniably aroused as he felt Bro’s hand slip into his pants, rubbing at him with a cold but not terribly unpleasant touch._

_“Mm, you’re so warm,” Bro said, and Dave felt a pair of lips on his shoulder, just like he’d imagined when he’d jerked off to his brother that night. Indeed, it felt like the heat was being leeched out of him, and it almost made being touched like this more bearable._

_He groaned a bit as Bro’s finger circled around one of his nipples, as his hand fell into a steady rhythm of firm strokes. He wanted to turn around so badly, to see Bro again, to kiss him, but he was stuck, trapped in his brother’s cold hands and shitty dream logic._

_He opened his mouth, trying to get out more than an embarrassing sound, but Bro chose that moment to squeeze and twist his hand in just the right way. Dave’s hips jerked forward and he groaned again, shutting his eyes so he didn’t have to look at the ground below and could just think about Bro touching him._

_Bro sped up and Dave could feel himself approaching the edge, the good kind, and he managed to gasp out without thinking, “I miss you,” in a thin weak voice._

_“I know,” Bro murmured into his ear, his frigid lips brushing against it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the infomercial Dave was jacking off to. Pretty shameful stuff. http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=OdoAv4VWrjs


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize if you read any version of this chapter that was totally fucked up thanks to my terrible formatting.

He awoke with a full body spasm, mumbling something he couldn’t decipher himself. He blinked up at the ceiling, feeling beads of moisture clinging to his eyelids. He quickly wiped them away, feeling stupid and childlike. That feeling increased tenfold when he shifted around and realized he’d come in his underwear.

Christ, a fucking wet dream. He thought he’d passed this embarrassing phase in his life.

As he slipped out of his boxers and threw them vaguely in the direction of the laundry pile his mind drifted over some of the finer details of the dream. He’d definitely said he missed Bro, and that was seriously pathetic. It had been five years, he should be way over this.

And there was one thing he’d thought but hadn’t said, something about Bro turning the television off. He didn’t really believe that did he? It was just a shitty TV with a shitty timer. Other things seemed to happen of their own accord though, the lights going out, the incredible reappearing smuppets, the futon misbehaving. And the dreams, of course. Maybe....

No. Hell no. That was stupid. He was being incredibly dumb. Dave scrubbed at his eyes with the heels of of his palms, making sure they were completely dry. This was getting out of hand. He really hated to do it, but he was going to have to talk to someone.

He put on another pair of boxers (for the sake of decency) and sat down at his computer, wiggling the mouse to bring it to life. As he typed out a message to Rose he reasoned that she probably wouldn’t be up, and he could just put this no doubt awful conversation off for a bit.

\--turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] at 3:38 am--

TG: hey rose  
TG: i have important matters to discuss  
TG: time is of the essence  
TG: get it  
TG: not really im just bored  
TT: Are you aware of the current time?  
TG: oh sorry did i disturb your slumber  
TG: do you have pesterchum rigged up to sound an alarm if i message you  
TG: a blaring announcement that i have some bullshit to type out  
TG: GET THE FUCK UP DAVE WANTS TO GOSSIP  
TT: Alright, you caught me, I was already awake.  
TT: It seems I lose track of time quite easily when I’m writing.  
TG: well then you should be thanking me from throwing you a line before you got totally lost in the wizard porn ass caves  
TT: That is perhaps the least apt description of my work I have ever heard.  
TG: its apt as all hell and you know it  
TT: Did you contact me to grossly overgeneralize my fiction or was there something else that has you reaching out at four in the morning?  
TG: oh yeah  
TG: so you know how i moved into my bros old place  
TT: That sounds rather familiar. Hm, let me think...  
TT: Oh, are you referring to how you insisted we all move to this horribly warm city, shunning our larger and more pleasant-climated homes so that you could stay in your brother’s one-bedroom apartment?  
TG: well when you put it like that you make it sound like we didnt have a fair and square vote  
TG: its not like i threw a tantrum  
TG: i just said it was the biggest city so there would be the most opportunity  
TG: not to mention its the cheapest  
TG: are you bitter or something???  
TT: No, no. It’s just been a bit difficult adjusting, I suppose. You would probably have the same problem if we moved somewhere else. I really did not expect it to be so humid all the time.  
TG: is your poor hair getting frizzy  
TT: Yes.  
TG: gotta use conditioner  
TT: I see. Noted.  
TT: I hate to ask again but was there a reason for this conversation?  
TG: yes damnit you keep getting me off track  
TG: just listen  
TT: Go ahead.  
TG: okay so you know how i moved back into my bros apartment  
TG: and ive been trying to like get all the stupid shit of his out of here  
TG: but i think maybe im going nuts or something  
TT: “Nuts”?  
TG: sorry  
TG: i think the technical term is  
TG: absobuttfuckinglutely batshit bananas  
TT: Ah yes, hold on a moment while I look that up in the DSM.  
TG: uh the what  
TT: The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders. It’s a book used to classify psychological illness.  
TG: oh  
TG: i was thinking something else  
TT: I’m sure you were.  
TT: ;)  
TG: okay stop right there slam it in reverse and back up we are getting off track again  
TT: Sorry, do continue.  
TG: so   
TG: i dunno a ton of weird shit is happening  
TG: like its taking me way too long to get rid of his stuff  
TG: its been three weeks or something and all i managed to do was get rid of those shitty swords  
TG: and then theres these dreams  
TG: that are super weird and i dont wanna get into  
TT: Are you sure?  
TG: definitely  
TG: the big thing is  
TG: all this weird stuff is happening  
TG: like lights going on and off  
TG: the fucking tv turns off by itself  
TG: it did it just now as if to remind me to mention it to you or something  
TG: thanks demon flatscreen  
TG: and i know its all just because its a shitty apartment full of stupid broken crap  
TG: but i cant help but feel like theres i dunno  
TG: something going on you know???  
TG: which is probably just that im going crazy  
TT: You think your apartment is haunted?  
TG: no  
TG: but sort of  
TT: No, but sort of?  
TG: god this sounds so stupid  
TG: i keep jumping to these conclusions  
TG: like assuming the worst  
TG: and then my dreams sort of confirm things  
TG: except they dont because theyre dreams and theyre bullshit  
TG: yeah thanks space and time for going back to normal  
TG: and working logically just when id gotten used to dreams being a huge deal and death not being a thing  
TG: except for our guardians i guess   
TG: who are just stone dead forever never even got a dream version  
TT: You think your brother haunting you would be “the worst thing”?  
TG: fuck  
TG: dont think i dont see what youre doing  
TG: repeating everything back to me to get me to elaborate  
TG: just know that im playing along because i want to not cause youre making me  
TT: You think you are playing the system?  
TG: ok i get it  
TG: and i dunno  
TG: i mean i guess its more like  
TG: wishful thinking???  
TG: which is so fucking pathetic and lame  
TG: its not like i pined for his stupid ass on the meteor  
TG: i was totally cool all the time didnt think about him once  
TG: well maybe a few times but i got over it pretty quickly  
TG: and then theres these times now when in the heat of some moment i forget he died  
TG: and then i remember and its like oh right fucking duh  
TT: You got over your brother’s death with absolutely no mourning whatsoever?  
TG: yes of course  
TG: how else would i do it???  
TT: Did it ever occur to you that you never got over it at all?  
TG: no  
TT: Really? With all this happening and affecting you so strongly that it’s making you scared?  
TG: im not scared  
TG: i mean yeah i wont open the medicine cabinet cause i know as soon as i close it theres gonna be some horrible monster in the mirror behind me  
TG: but thats just cause ive seen every horror movie ever  
TT: Tell me about the dreams.  
TG: why  
TT: Because it’s obvious they’re an extremely important part of this.  
TG: okay fine whatever  
TG: basically im on the roof and im about to fall off the edge  
TG: i used to have that dream before the game no big deal id wake up before i hit the ground  
TG: so it starts out like that  
TG: and then my brother stops me from falling  
TG: and hes pissed about me trying to get rid of his stuff  
TG: it doesnt happen every night just like after i take a major step towards getting this place liveable again  
TT: I see.  
TT: It’s incredibly obvious that you’re avoiding any real closure regarding your brother’s death.  
TG: wrong  
TT: Oh, my apologies, I was under the impression you wanted some sort of help from me.  
TT: But if that’s not the case then I’ll just go back to my writing.  
TT: I was in the middle of a rather intense scene.  
TG: ok ok sorry keep going  
TT: As I was saying. You haven’t come to terms with your brother’s death. You feel like he’s still there, like touching his things is still a violation. And the fact that he isn’t is causing this rather interesting paranoid reaction.  
TT: I think you need to face your fears, so to speak.  
TG: not fears  
TT: Your nervous impressions, then.  
TG: okay thats worse go on  
TT: This dream of yours occurs on the roof.  
TT: Have you been up there since you moved back?  
TG: nope no reason to  
TT: That was the last place you saw him alive, was it not?  
TG: yeah i guess  
TT: I think you need to spend some time there. Recreate the dream.  
TT: Obviously do not attempt to jump off. But prove to yourself that your brother is not going to be there. Think about him, think about what happened, think about what this means to you and your future.  
TT: Use the things you were never allowed to. Show yourself that nothing’s going to happen. That he’s really gone.  
TG: this sounds stupid  
TT: Does it?  
TG: okay it makes a little bit of sense but im not gonna do it  
TT: Are you really not going to do it? Or are you just saying you’re not going to do it so that you can continue to appear “cool”?  
TG: definitely the former  
TG: well look rose its been great  
TG: i think spewing my guts out really helped me make a breakthrough or whatever so thanks  
TG: but its like four god damn thirty i need to get back to bed  
TT: Certainly.   
TT: We should get together sometime. You’ve been quite reclusive since we moved here. We thought you were going to show us the sights and all the good restaurants. We’ve just been wandering around eating wherever sounds good.  
TG: what you guys have been doing shit with out me???  
TT: You didn’t show any interest in hanging out with us.   
TG: no way im totally down lets do it  
TG: im mad curious to know what yall have been getting up to  
TT: Alright, I’ll let you know when our next lunch date is and you can tell us what secret Houston gems you know of.  
TG: oh you know theres this really cool little place called taco bell

\--tentacleTherapist [TT] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 4:34am--  
  
Dave rolled his chair back from his desk and rubbed at the bridge of his nose, trying to switch his brain out of bullshit mode and really think. As much as he wrote Rose off on the surface, he really did value her input, and now that he was done fronting he had to process it.

So the reason he was so jumpy, the reason Bro was in his dreams, was because he hadn’t cried over him or named a bench after him or something. He really wished that wasn’t true. He’d like to think that he was immune to shit like this. Grief was for chumps.

But not being able to touch his brother’s turntables because he was scared of nothing was for megachumps. He couldn’t just let that stuff collect dust while he shivered and jumped at every little noise. If he could just get his stupid sadness out of the way he could get this crap out of here and stop living with his brother’s stupid fake ghost. He could stop waking up in the middle of the night with sweat and other fluids on him.

He could stop feeling those strong arms keeping him from falling. Could stop feeling those hands, cold but strangely comforting, controlling and confident and drawing everything out of him. Dave groaned, scrubbing at his eyes again. He needed a girlfriend or something. That was probably the real problem. But the prospect of dealing with real people was more daunting than making himself touch the turntables.

One step at a time, he told himself as he crawled back into bed. The turntables, the roof, then social interactions. Maybe.

\-----

Dave stood a few feet away from his brother’s gigantic mixing rig, telling himself not to be such a pussy. Bro was dead, and nothing was going to happen except maybe some other damn thing was going to break. He took a deep breath and pulled his hoodie a little tighter around his shoulders (the thermostat was fucked, he’d call maintenance about it someday).

The hair on his neck prickled distressingly as he stepped forward. He had to tell himself over and over it was just his stupid brain being a dick to him as he laid his hands on the instrument. He ran his fingers over it, swallowing as he spun one of the empty plates around. He could do this. 

He pulled a record from the shelf at random, feeling another sting of anxiety at the trespass. He didn’t recognize the album, but it looked like some trashy 80s thing. He set it on the plate that was still slowly spinning and set the needle in place. 

It took him a few moments to turn it on, partially because he wasn’t sure where the power button was and partially because everything in his body was telling him not to do this. He forced himself to jam on the power button, and the record started spinning again.

There was a steady slow clanking that made him think there was something seriously wrong with the machine. But as the sound increased in volume and an eerie synth voice joined the clanking he realized it was just the track. He looked over the sliders and saw that it was spinning at 20 rpm. He slid it up to 33 and suddenly the song made a little more sense. 

[Clan of Xymox- Back Door]

He listened to it, wondering when the hell Bro had ever used this particular record. It was kind of goth and awful. He leaned on the edge the rig as he listened, remembering all the times he’d seen Bro standing right here, spinning incredibly ill jams. His hands flew over the vinyl expertly, looping, layering and cutting with astounding skill. Now this thing was pretty much useless without him to use it properly.

Dave took a shuddering breath. Nothing was happening. This was it. Just a super depressing song playing on his dead brother’s turntable. He looked up and caught sight of the wall rack that had held Bro’s swords. It stood empty now, short arms reaching out to receive nothing. 

Dave sat down on the floor and pressed the heels of his hands to his closed eyes until he saw flashes of light popping on the inside of his eyelids. God, why was this song so fucking terrible? He’d thought Bro had better taste, even ironically. What a stupid fucking bastard, dying and leaving Dave with a shitty record collection. 

He sniffed in spite of himself, and kicked at one of the cinder blocks holding the turntables up. The record scratched and started skipping. _“be here aga-, be here aga-, be here aga-”_ Dave kicked it again and the needle bounced off with another loud scratch and then it was silent. 

The sleeves of his hoodie were damp when he finally pulled his hands away from his face and realized the lights had gone out again.

\-----

He took a scalding hot shower, wondering why Rose hadn’t mentioned how fucking painful this stupid process was going to be. He couldn’t see why anyone would want to deal with things this way. 

He was in the middle of jerking off when the water suddenly went freezing cold and he let out an embarassing screech. He hurried out of the shower shivering and grabbing for a towel, which wasn’t there. Fuck.

He was about to make a break for his room when something on the mirror caught his eye. The steam had started to condense and form droplets of water rolling down the surface, creating squiggly lines of reflective clarity.

In the upper corner there was an arrangement of lines that seemed rather unlikely. It almost looked like it spelled out a word.

 _“yo.”_  
\-----

_“You scratched my record.”_

_“Mmf. Go away. You’re not real.”_

_“Wanna bet?” he asked, his hand tightening almost painfully on Dave’s cock. Dave moaned, pressing back against his brother’s chest._

_“You’re dead.”_

_“So you can just fuck with my shit?” His hand stopped moving and Dave groaned at the loss of contact that was clearly meant as punishment._

_“Gnnh- What’m I supposed to do? Fuck, please.”_

_“I know you miss me you fucking crybaby. You miss my big cock, too.”_

_Dave couldn’t point out that technically he didn’t actually have any experience with Bro’s big cock to miss, because it was suddenly grinding against his ass and making speech impossible._

_"Come meet me.” His lips on Dave’s neck, opening, closing, sucking, biting. “Maybe I miss you too, dipshit.”_

\---------


	5. Chapter 5

“...Bro,” he was whining pitifully when he woke up, and this time he knew what he was saying. God, how fucking embarrassing. Shouldn’t these dreams be getting less intense now that he was making an effort to deal with this? Instead his subconscious seemed to be ramping it up big-time, making him confused and conflicted.

But maybe it wasn’t his subconscious. Maybe it really was Bro. There had been that message on the mirror... Of course that could have just been a weird coincidence. It was only two letters. If the message had read “yo dave its me your dead brother.” he might be a little more open to the idea.

It didn’t take Dave long to find that he was once again painfully hard. It felt like a tease, a denial, or maybe some kind of incentive. 

_Come meet me._

What did that mean? Come meet him...? His eyes drifted up to the ceiling as he rubbed himself. On the roof?

He got out of bed and made his way to the the front door dressed in nothing but his boxers. The TV was already off, meaning it was super late/early, so there wouldn’t be anyone out in the hall. He regretted it when he stepped out of the apartment and found it even colder than it had been inside. 

He got as far as the stairwell before he stopped. What the hell was he doing? Standing in hallway in his underwear with a raging boner; for what? Because a dream had told him to go up to the roof? Shit. 

His hand held onto the cool metal doorknob as he thought this over. What was he going to find up there? What form would Bro be in? Dave hadn’t even seen him in his dreams. Would he look like he always had, solid and strong and an incredible douchebag? Would he have his own fucking sword through his chest, bleeding out and breath bubbling with blood? Would he be five-years decayed, crawling with bacteria and rot, not more than petrified flesh hanging off bones? Maybe he’d be a stereotypical floating, see-through spectre with glowing orange eyes behind his shades.

Or worst of all, maybe he’d be nothing. Maybe Dave would stand on the roof and be so terribly fucking alone that it would physically hurt. 

He thunked his head against the door, feeling his eyes burning up with impending moisture. He knew that’s what was supposed to happen. He was supposed to go up there, realize there was nothing, have a good, cathartic cry about it, and then be good as new in six to eight months. All part of the grieving process. He turned and walked back to the apartment, boner shriveled and feeling like an immense pussy. He couldn’t do this right now.

He was splashing water on his face in the bathroom to fix his stupid eyes when he looked up and noticed a mark on his neck, just above the crook of his shoulder. It was a red splotch that was on its way to turning a dull purple, and looked very much like a hickey. Dave felt a cold frisson shooting up his spine as he recalled the sensation of his brother sucking on his skin in the dream.

\-----

“Oh! Dave you’re going out with someone? Is that why we haven’t seen you lately?” Jade pointed in the least discreet manner possible at the evidence. Dave got the feeling Jade had some sort of residual issues involving her and Davesprite. She always seemed to be overcompensating or something, determined to show how interested she was in being happy for him. Or maybe she just was really happy for him. Sometimes he couldn’t figure her out.

Dave instinctively raised his hand to his neck to cover the mark, hiding it from John, who was now craning his neck to try and see.

“Hate to disappoint but nah, I just fell asleep with my headphones on,” Dave replied, smacking John’s hand away when it reached over to try and uncover the phantom hickey.

“You have very affectionate headphones,” Rose said, taking a sip of her coffee. Her lipstick left a black mark on the rim of the mug when she set it down.

“What can I say, we make each other happy,” Dave said, giving up and removing his hand. He looked down into his own mug of undrunk apple cider, smacking John’s hand again when he sensed it coming in to poke the bruise.

“Oh did I tell you guys I got a job at a comedy club?” John said. He gave up too and used his fork to cut a gigantic bite of carrot cake off the slice on his plate. 

“Yeah, you won’t shut up about it,” Jade said, rolling her eyes, “It’s not that big a deal, you’re just a waiter.”

“They said I could host open mic night in a couple months though. It’s called a career path, you should try it.”

“Oh yeah, let’s see you say that when you’re left with the entire rent bill next year,” Jade replied and took a triumphant bite of salad that looked to be more dressing than vegetable.

“Are you moving out?” Dave asked, feeling rather uninformed.

“God, Dave you’re so out of the loop. You’re like...five miles from the loop. I got an internship with National Geographic. I’m going to the Galapagos next spring.” She bounced a little in her seat, clearly excited.

“Cool,” Dave said, finally taking the plunge and taking a sip of his cider. He burned his tongue anyway.

“Maybe I should move in with Dave,” John mused, “Not sure my tips could pay for the apartment by themselves. I don’t really make much.”

“Sounds like you’re just a shitty waiter,” Dave said. He pressed his scalded tongue to the roof of his mouth, hating the ashy texture, “Besides, you don’t wanna move in with me. My place is haunted.”

“Oh?” Rose said, raising an eyebrow. Dave nodded meaningfully at her, and broke his pokeface just enough to give her a look that said he would be pissed if she said anything about their early-morning conversation.

“Yup, fuckin’ swimming in ectoplasm,” he answered, blowing casually on his steaming beverage.

“Jeez, if you don’t want me living with you, you could just say so,” John said with an exaggerated pout. 

“No seriously. You said the place was creepy when you helped me move in. You were right dude. Probably your ectobiological instincts.”

“That handle is just bullshit dude. Or like, it was a prophetic thing about how I was going to make us all out of slime. What kind of haunting is it?”

“Huh? Are there types? What’s the classification process for spooky shit?” Dave was suddenly rather interested. The hickey had convinced him that maybe he really was dealing with something supernatural in Bro’s apartment. He knew it was probably more wishful thinking, but it was beginning to become a little too real to ignore.

John rolled his eyes in a manner startlingly similar to Jade, and started ticking off on his fingers. “Well, there’s residual hauntings, where it’s like, the reenactment of some traumatic murder or something where the ghosts just go through the motions and don’t interact. Then there’s poltergeist, where stuff moves around or lights and stuff get fucked with. They can also like, attack a person with scratches and stuff. Uh...demon possession, which is obvious, and then intelligent hauntings, where a ghost is actively trying to get your attention and tell you something or punish you or whatever. There’s more but it’s mostly really vague and ill-defined.”

“Thought your chumhandle was bullshit,” Dave said, trying his cider again and finding it drinkable this time.

“Well it is. Ghosts aren’t real, dumbass. Not anymore, anyway. This is mostly from Ghostbusters lore.”

“I dunno, I guess it’s like a cross between poltergeist and intelligent. I think my Bro is trying to tell me not to get rid of his stuff.”

“Do you truly believe this?” Rose asked with extreme skepticism. Her lips were pursed in disapproval, obviously not happy with the way Dave was handling his grief.

“I dunno, maybe, just too much shit happening for it to be all be a coincidence.” He swallowed, refusing to look at Rose in case the message she was sending him was correct.

“I think maybe your life is just so much less interesting than ours that you have to make something up,” John suggested with a pompous smirk.

“Oh yeah, I’m just so jealous of you wiping down tables that I had to top it,” Dave shot back.

“Hey, we should do a séance!” Jade suddenly interjected, turning to Rose, “You could do that, right? It’ll be fun.”

“Hmm, I suppose,” Rose said, still looking at Dave critically, “It might be an amusing diversion.”

“Hey, no, that’s not necessary. I can deal with my doompartment myself thanks, “ Dave said, suddenly regretting bringing this up. He knew something like that was likely to either prove or disprove his hunch, and he wasn’t sure he wanted that happening with all his best friends around to witness his reaction.

“Actually I think it would definitely be a fun evening,” Rose said, latching onto his discomfort and digging her claws in, “When is everyone free?”

“Hey we can bring snacks and watch movies afterwards,” John said, practically bouncing in his seat, “And we can all hold Dave so he doesn’t get scared, heheheh. I’m pretty much booked till next weekend though. Guess I’m the only one who has any conflicts seeing as I’m the only one with a real job.”

“Oh shut up,” Jade said, giving John a playful shove that nearly unseated him, “Hey, it’s Friday the thirteenth in two weeks, we should do it then for extra spookfactor!”

“Actually we’d be better off on a solstice, or all hallow’s eve, but seeing as this is _just for fun_ ,” Rose said this with a pointed sideways glance at Dave, “I think Friday after next should work just fine. If nothing else it might encourage Dave to make his place a little more presentable for guests, hm?”

“Seriously, this isn’t a thing we need to do. I’ll just call in an exorcist and not waste you guys’ time.”

“Nope!” John and Jade said simultaneously, then giggled together at the coincidence.

“We’re doing it,” John said, and Jade added, “We’re making it happen.”

“Fucking peachy,” Dave muttered, and drowned his sorrows in cider.

\-----

He was determined to make a little more progress now that his home was scheduled for an invasion by his friends. He had to get over this before they held their shitty little ghost convention and he had a total breakdown in front of them. Best to get it over with while he was alone.

He couldn't bring himself to go upstairs quite yet, and settled on something a little more innocuous. Dave dug the XBox controller out of a pile of cords he’d bundled up in his frenzy of organization, tossing an errant smuppet back into the designated pile. He was definitely going to get rid of those things before anyone came over. For sure.

He sank onto the futon and pressed the power button on the controller, waking the long-sleeping console. Using the XBox was one rule he didn’t mind breaking so much, but he still felt a little thrill of dreadful exhilaration as the startup animation played. He shifted in his seat, rolling his head on his shoulders to shake off the chilly fingers of instinctive fear that curled along the back of his neck.

He got a painful flash of nostalgia when the loading screen for MAD SNACKS YO started up. Bro used to shred the most heinous combos in this shitty game. It never even froze on him. He somehow managed to use the glitches to his advantage and rack up impossible high scores.

Speaking of which, once the game was finally loaded, Dave navigated to the save files, staring at the ridiculous number of digits next Bro’s name. He brought his knees up to his chest, suddenly feeling uneasy as he navigated to the delete file option. 

“Yo homes, you sure you wanna delete this radical save file? All progress and ill snackage will be lost. Y/N”

He could feel tears prickling at his eyes again as he hovered over the “Y.” Fuck, he was tearing up about a god damn video game. Totally inexcusable. With a burst of defiance he hit the confirm button.

This was apparently too much for the game, and the background music suddenly glitched out, shifting from whiteboy raprock to a stuttery electronic buzz. A few seconds later the screen went black and the status lights on the console turned into a three-quarters circle illuminated in red.

“Augh!” Dave threw the controller at the box, where it hit with a loud clunk. Fucking Red Ring of Death.

\-----

_“Am I being too subtle for you?” His fingers danced teasingly along Dave’s erection, not enough to give pleasure but plenty to make him shiver. “D’you need a handwritten invitation?”_

_Dave fought to make a noise that wasn’t humiliating and weak, and at length managed to say, “I’m scared.” He was going to hate himself for being such a wimp when he woke up, but right now it was too easy to be horrifically honest._

_“What, scared 'a me? Your dick sure ain’t.” He caressed it fleetingly before moving his hand back up to slide along Dave’s chest._

_“That you won’t be there.” Dave tried with all his might to turn around, but it was impossible. He could only press back against him, feel the vague pressure of his ghost boner._

_“I ever let you down before?”_

_“Yes,” Dave accused._

_“Other than that one time.” One hand squeezed Dave’s ass while the other returned to his cock, stroking fast and hard, pulling him to the very brink before abandoning him just at the edge of orgasm. “I’m waiting for you.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> John misses cake after all.
> 
> Promise there will be hot dude on dead dude action next time.


	6. Chapter 6

“Pleeease,” he heard himself whimper as he was once more jolted into consciousness. His hand was already fumbling to get through the slit in his boxers. If this wasn’t the hardest he’d ever been in his life it was definitely in the top five. 

He groaned as he wrapped his hand around himself, uncurling to lay on his back. His gaze went up to the dark ceiling as he desperately pulled at his erection. 

_I’m waiting for you._

Why did it have to be like this? It was like his brain was pushing him irresistibly to face the inevitable disappointment. He just wanted to go back to not being fucking insane.

“Damnit, Bro,” he muttered and got up. Fine. He’d put an end to this tonight, for better or most likely for worse. Then he’d get this place cleaned up and Rose would see just how well-adjusted and over his brother’s death he was.

He put his hoodie on as he stepped into the main room. The TV was playing that same stupid infomercial he’d gotten off to that one night, and as Dave crossed by it the screen went black. He flipped it off and opened the front door. 

It was still cold in the hallway, and Dave made his way to the stairwell with a speedy determination that was only slightly hindered by his aching erection. He wanted to get up there before he decided to pussy out again, driven half by desire to get this over with and half by wild, totally irrational hope. 

He gripped tightly onto the handrail as he ascended, because there was no way he was going to go tumbling down the stairs when his junk was in such a vulnerable state. His thighs rubbed against his cock with each step, and he had a feeling he was going to end up pumping one out on the roof like some kind of open-air fetishist.

He sighed in relief as he finally reached the top, then remembered what he was about to do. This was so dumb. He’d spent hours and sweaty hours up here, getting his ass kicked repeatedly as Bro taught him how to kick ass. And now he was scared of spending a few minutes on the roof by himself.

Dave swallowed, pushing the image of Bro drifting away on his rocketboard out of his head and pushing open the door to the rooftop.

He felt his chest seizing in what might have been the beginnings of a mild panic attack as he stepped out onto the cool, moonlit concrete. He wished he’d at least put on some socks. With every step he could almost hear Bro’s voice in his head whispering, “pussy, fucking wimp, man up, you crybaby,” as his breath quickened and his eyes began to sting yet again.

He hated Rose for suggesting this as he approached the edge. This sucked so, so hard.

He made it to the lip of the roof, pulling his hoodie so tight that he was practically hugging himself.

The dim cityscape looked a lot less surreal than in his dream, and the ground was more tangible. There wasn’t nearly the same sense of dread, despite the danger being much more actual than in his dream. Or maybe it was just overshadowed by his trembling fingers and tight throat as he stood and waited.

And waited.

This was where Bro made his appearance in his dreams, where he stopped him from falling and started to touch him in that terrible and awesome manner. Dave felt foolish as he pawed absently at his erection, which had only diminished a little despite being overcome with emotion.

He stood there for what felt like forever, waiting for something he was growing more and more sure wasn’t going to come. Rose was right. This was how he was going to move on. Bro wasn’t coming. He was alone now, and it hurt so bad.

“Bro, please,” he begged into the gently moving air, one last attempt at this idiotic notion that he might be up here in some form. Dave sniffed, ashamed as he felt snot starting to creep out of his left nostril and saw his vision blur through tears that were on the verge of pouring down his cheeks.

 

“I don’t like having to wait,” came a voice from right behind him, and Dave let out a surprised gasp that was almost a sob. He would have thought he’d just imagined it until he felt the now familiar hands slipping around his waist to pull him away from the edge a bit.

The choked sound that came from his throat was part some kind of relieved laugh and definitely half sob as he shut his eyes and leaned back, not giving a shit if he was crazy anymore. It felt real enough.

“Made me wait so fuckin’ long. You got taller,” Bro said, his hands finding their way under Dave’s hoodie. They weren’t as cold as they were in the dream, but they weren’t warm either. They were undeniably dead, taking on the temperature of the air around them.

“I’m sorry,” Dave replied, his voice strained and thin. Was this really happening? Maybe it was another dream. He tested this theory by trying to turn around, something he’d never managed when he was asleep. His determination and the fear at what he might see fought for a few moments before the former finally won, and and he turned around in Bro’s arms.

There he was, still tall, solid, and intimidating; pale and almost blue in the moonlight, dressed in that same clean white polo shirt and black jeans. Bro didn’t have to look down as far as he used to, and Dave was the perfect height to bury his head against his dead brother’s shoulder and cry like a baby, which is exactly what he did. He clutched at his shirt, felt the absence of a heartbeat in his chest, and let out what felt like more than five years of emotional build-up all over the fabric.

“Shit,” Bro said, his strong arms wrapping around Dave’s back, “You know I kind of hoped I would have trained this sort of thing outta you.”

“You- fu...fucked up,” Dave replied between big, watery gulps, holding onto Bro like he might disappear any second, because for all he knew that could very well happen.

“Guess so,” Bro said, and Dave felt his hand massaging the back of his neck. The tepid nature of his skin was strange, but Dave wasn’t going to complain right now. Bro was really here, and it was so weird and awesome and an incredible relief.

“Man, you got a hell of a hard-on,” Bro commented as his other hand pushed Dave’s ass towards him, grinding against his crotch.

Dave made a whimpery sound of acknowledgement, refusing to pull his head back. Bro let out a low chuckle that sent a shiver down Dave’s spine, another one following shortly after when Bro cupped him roughly.

“Will you stop fuckin’ crying? It’s not sexy.” Dave nodded, but couldn’t make himself stop even as Bro pushed the fabric of his boxers down and started to stroke him. His knees grew weak and Bro had to support him, lowering him gently to sit on the raised curb of the roof. 

Dave made a sound of protest as he was taken closer to the edge, that familiar fear from his dreams surging back, but Bro got down on one knee and held him tight. “Don’t worry,” he said, looking up at Dave and showing his faintly glowing orange eyes over the rim of his shades, “I gotcha. I’m strongest up here.” 

Dave couldn’t help but believe him as he felt one hand curled around the small of his back, another holding onto his knee as he pressed his face against Dave’s inner thigh, nuzzling his and sucking. It wasn’t warm, but it was wet, and it felt just fine as far as Dave was concerned.

“I missed you...so much,” Dave admitted, one hand on Bro’s shoulder while the other wiped at his eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie.

“Mmn,” Bro replied, his lips making their way to Dave’s cock which was standing at attention, hard as ever. Dave was well beyond giving a shit about how weird this was, about how humiliating it was to cry like this in front of Bro. His arousal and relief wiped away any reservation he might have about getting blown by a ghost that was also his brother.

Bro’s mouth felt strange on Dave’s sensitive skin, almost tingly. His mouth opened and his tongue flicked out along the shaft of Dave’s cock, teasing and almost not there. Dave didn’t like feeling any part of his brother as if it wasn’t there, so he put his hand on the back of Bro’s neck and pulled him closer.

“Fuckin’ pushy,” Bro said, but obligingly applied more pressure, taking the tip in his strangely room-temperature mouth.

“I haven’t seen you for five years,” Dave replied defensively, touching Bro as much as he could, just to make sure he was still tangible. This was totally impossible but he didn’t want to argue with logic right now.

“Not like you were accustomed to this type of treatment back then,” Bro pointed out before sinking down further, taking Dave all the way in.

“Yeah, but....” Dave shuddered and moaned, and couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence with ‘I always wanted it.’ Bro seemed to understand well enough anyway, putting enough effort into this to make up for five years of absence.

It was unlike anything Dave had felt before, otherworldy in fact. Every time Bro bobbed his head down Dave’s cock tingled with a cool, almost electric pleasure. This totally novel form of stimulation combined with the fact that he’d been so incredibly aroused brought Dave to the verge fairly quickly. 

“Oh, fuck, Bro, gonna come,” he warned, and as much as he wanted this to go on forever he couldn’t bring himself to push Bro away. Bro pulled him closer and looked up over his shades at Dave again. The sight if Bro’s eyes flaring with unearthly light while he stared into him pushed Dave to his logical conclusion. His fist tightened in Bro’s hair and he wondered if anyone who had their window open might have faintly heard the loud groan he let out as he came. 

Bro practically sucked him dry, his dead tongue busy sweeping up any errant drops. Dave couldn’t stop twitching and groaning with pleasure, feeling more euphoric and relaxed than he had in a very long time. “Damn, Dave,” Bro said with a smirk, looking totally sated himself, “That was fucking awesome,”

“I didn’t even touch you,” Dave said, feeling a little guilty about that. He did miss Bro’s big cock, despite never having felt it in his waking life.

“Yeah but you pretty much just gave me a giant sticky load of life energy. Tastes great.”

“Weird.”

“No shit. I’m a fucking ghost.”

“Uhm...” Dave shifted a little, moving even closer into Bro’s arms, “Are you gonna like....go to the other side now or something?” He tried not to sound worried, like he would totally break down if Bro left again.

His brother raised an eyebrow and sat up after putting Dave’s softening dick back into his boxers. “What, like my unfinished business here on earth was to suck you off, and now that I’ve done it I can finally rest in peace? Nah, I’ll probably hang around awhile since your weepy ass can’t seem to deal without me.”

Dave had a feeling like that wasn’t actually how this sort of thing was supposed to work, like they were cheating the system somehow, though he didn't want to challenge the idea of Bro sticking around. Instead he was about to protest that his ass was not weepy, but Bro was suddenly right in his face, leaning in and kissing him. 

His lips still had that weird tingly feel against Dave’s own, and it was more than bearable. Dave kissed back with a desperation that betrayed how intensely lonely he’d been by himself. Bro was here, he was really still here and he was returning Dave's affections. He thought he himself might die of elation He shivered a little, having forgotten how cold it was up here in his excitement. It was coming back now though, and Bro’s heatless body didn’t do much to help.

“Let’s go downstairs,” Bro suggested, standing up and pulling Dave with him.

“Can you?” Dave asked. Bro had said he was strongest up here, and if he could materialize just anywhere he probably would have done it sooner rather than waiting for Dave to come up here. He didn’t care how cold he was, if getting warm meant losing sight of Bro again so soon he wasn’t going.

“You keep feeding me like that and I’ll be able to go down and haunt the laundry room in the basement,” Bro replied. Dave was totally cool with that arrangement, and found his hand in Bro’s, following him back to the stairwell.

\-----

_“Okay, this feels like an invasion now,” Dave said, as Bro's hands found their place on his hips again._

_“If it wasn’t for my invading you’d probably never come up to the roof and I’d just have to haunt the crows. They’re too stupid to be scared, it’s not fun.” Bro held him tightly, grinding against his backside._

_“Can you at least let me turn around? This view is getting really boring.”_

_“It’s your dream, dude, maybe you just have a boring imagination. I’m getting kind of tired of it too.”_

_“Well you don’t have to be here.”_

_“Maybe I do. Are you sure you can cope sleeping all by yourself?” He palmed at Dave’s crotch. His dick was exhausted but still feebly interested, not one to turn down an opportunity._

_“You just want my jizz energy or whatever, you're gonna ruin my sheets.” Dave said._

_“Okay man if you wanna sleep in peace I’ll just go chill in limbo.” Bro’s hands began to slip away and Dave felt a sting of panic._

_“Don’t fucking do that. Okay, fine go ahead. Do your worst.”_

_“Calm down, I wasn’t really gonna leave,” Bro replied, his hands restaking their claim._

_Dave relaxed back against Bro, letting him do what he wanted. “Seriously d-don’t make a mess,” he said, though he was rapidly starting not to care._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably one more long chapter after this. The sad stuff is pretty much over. Now it's just comedy boning forever.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I had planned to make this the last chapter, but I realized that getting everything I wanted in there while not making it a huge unweildy piece of crap was impossible, so I'm splitting it. And also throwing my chapter pattern of ending with a dream sequence out the window despite the fact that it kills me to do so.
> 
> Furthermore, I've been having trouble writing the next part, mostly because I have no clue what Rose's motivations are exactly and I need to figure those out before I can write it properly.
> 
> And finally, I just really wanted to publish a chapter since I've been having so much difficulty finding time to write these days.

For once he woke up gradually, keeping his eyes shut and hoping it was still early enough to get a few more hours of sleep. It had been 4am or something last time he woke up, and then...

Dave’s eyes snapped open as he remembered what had happened and he sat bolt upright, looking around wildly. His room was barely lit with cold pre-dawn light, everything in the same state of typical disarray.

He recalled coming downstairs with Bro, leading him into his room. They’d managed to squeeze onto his small bed together, Dave burrowing in his covers because Bro’s body offered no warmth. He’d fallen asleep with the literal dead weight of Bro’s arm across his waist, but...

The mattress next to him was empty. He’d slept on the very edge of the bed as if to make room for another person, but there wasn’t even a depression in the sheets.

He felt his throat tightening and his breath getting short again. Had it been a dream? It seemed even worse this time, the letdown of Bro not being here was more severe now that he thought he’d had him back. Fuck. He thought Bro had been trying to make him self sufficient, but he felt like he could barely function without him. How incredibly goddamn pathetic.

He shut his eyes before he could start crying again tried to calm down, focusing on the sound of his breathing and the faint drone of the TV in the other room. Wasn’t the TV was usually off at this time?

Trying not to get his hopes up, Dave got out of bed and rubbed the sleep and potential tears out of his eyes. Then he left his room and walked down the hall, listening to the sound of the TV getting louder as he got closer. He wondered how many minutes he’d spent with his hand lingering on one doorknob or another in the last few days. Finally he pushed it open.

Bro was sitting on the futon with his arms spread across the back and his legs stretched open in front of him, a position Dave was intensely familiar with. He never realized how much he’d missed seeing Bro sitting there like that until he saw it again. It was a huge relief.

He was so still though, didn’t move a muscle, nor did his chest expand and contract. It could have almost been an illusion in the flickering of the TV’s lumination. Dave approached, feeling just as nervous as he had when he’d been a kid and approaching Bro when he was engrossed in work.

“Bro...?”

His brother turned to look at him. He was definitely still here. He was still pale, though the light was too dim to make any real judgements. Even so, Dave could definitely see the kind of gross purple-ish color of his lips, When he opened them the skin stuck together for a moment, like they’d been held together with weak glue of saliva long-dried.

“Hey,” Bro said, and tilted his head in a beckoning gesture. Dave moved forward, squinting a little and trying to get a better look at Bro in the poor lighting of dawn and the TV. It was awesome to know he wasn’t crazy, or that at least he hadn’t saned up yet.

“Hey,” he replied, vowing to himself that he was going to keep it together this time. He sat down on the futon, keeping his gaze locked on Bro’s form in the bluish illumination as his brother turned his head back to watch TV. It was set to the home shopping network, where they were displaying a set of “authentic katana replicas.” Dave felt a pang of guilt for getting rid of all those swords. Bro became still again, so eerily motionless that Dave reached out and put his hand on his thigh. 

“Sup?” Bro said, and it startled Dave a little. 

“Dude, you’re kind of creeping me out,” Dave admitted, scooting closer and putting both his hand on his brother’s cold body. It was solid though, and that was plenty.

“Can’t really help it, you chicken,” Bro replied, wrapping an arm around Dave’s shoulders and pulling him in. Dave buried his face in Bro’s shoulder, inhaling deeply. The scent was so much more intense than it had been when he’d smelled it on the futon. He had to pull away lest he start sobbing again.

“What’s it like, being dead or whatever?” Dave asked, trying to sound nonchalant about it.

“It sucks,” Bro replied, keeping his hand chill and heavy on Dave’s shoulder, “Cold all the time, a whole bunch of shitty nebulous rules about where you can go and what you can do.” He looked out the window, “Speaking of which, I gotta get goin’.

“What?!” Dave said, grabbing Bro’s thigh again and not caring that he sounded so distraught. 

“Calm down. I’ll still be here sorta, I just can’t hang around in the daytime like this. It’s stupid but yeah. You’ll see me later” Bro shrugged and got up, Dave’s hold on him seeming to mean nothing. Dave scrambled off the futon and followed as his brother walked down the hallway into the bathroom. 

“Wait!” Dave said, turning the corner and finding it deserted. “Fuck!” he exclaimed, and hit the doorframe with his fist, shaking it when a shot of pain went up through his hand. He took a deep, steadying breath, wondering if he really had lost it after all. Any second he wasn’t looking at or touching Bro was drenched in doubt. The room was silent for awhile as Dave ran a hand through his hair. 

There was a metallic squeak that made him jump, and a moment later the shower started, water pouring into the empty stall. Dave looked down at himself, seeing the semen stain on his boxers that he had failed to notice before now.

“Yeah I get it, thanks for the hint,” he grumbled, shucking his underwear off and moving towards the hot water. “Don’t make it cold this time,” he said to the empty room, and stepped inside.

\-----

“Hey dude, check this out.”

Dave turned to look at the futon, where Bro had materialized with a bottle of orange soda. He never actually drank the stuff, just left open bottles all over the place. It was annoying and wasteful, especially since Dave couldn’t stand the taste.

“What?” Dave put the smuppet he had picked up into the cardboard box he was filling.

Bro fell silent and looked straight ahead, seeming to be concentrating. A moment later red started blooming from a spot in the center of his chest, staining his white shirt as it radiated outward, growing larger by the second.

“Wh-” Dave sputtered, the sight pulling up vivid memories of trying to suck it up while he stood over Bro’s lifeless body. “Bro, cut it out, that’s not cool,” he said, managing to keep his voice level. He looked away when the blood started to drip onto the futon in big fat drops that splashed out in little fireworks on the cushion.

“Shit man, you’re so sensitive,” Bro said, and Dave heard the hiss of the soda bottle opening. Great, another shitty drink he’d have to pour down the sink once Bro finally set it down somewhere. “You know, packing up all my things when I’m right fuckin’ here isn’t cool either.”

Dave chanced a look back and saw that Bro’s shirt was as clean and white as ever. He looked almost normal as he flicked the bottle cap at Dave. Dave caught it and threw it back, hitting his brother’s chest dead center as if that grievous wound was still there and serving as a bullseye. 

“Well you don’t technically ‘live’ here anymore so, yeah. I need to sell this shit,” Dave said, shifting his focus to the box he was stuffing with plush rump again. 

“Maybe you should get a job.” Bro’s voice was right behind him now, and the now-familiar sensation of his hands came creeping over his ribs. The bastard was even stealthier now that he was a ghost. 

“Maybe you should vary your approach, I’m totally wise to your sneaking up from behind thing.” Dave tried to hold onto the smuppet as Bro’s nails scraped along his sides, but found it increasingly difficult as his grip and knees started to weaken. “Can it wait?”

“I been waiting all day, I’m gettin’ weak here.” Dave’s pants were unbuttoned in record time and he decided to give up. It was easier (and more fun) to let Bro do his thing. He was going to have to get Bro some mittens or something though, he never quite got used to the cold temperature of his skin. It always sent up a wave of prickling, electric goosebumps in the wake of his fingers.

“No you’re not,” Dave said, turning around and wrapping his arms around his waist. “You’re solid as ever. You’re just ghost horny or something. How does that even work? Shouldn’t you be totally unresponsive?” He pressed himself against the prominent bulge in Bro’s pants, his heart racing as if to compensate for Bro’s lack of pulse.

“You think I’m gonna let something like death keep my cock down when I have such a fine piece of ass here on this side of mortality?” Bro said before pressing those bruised-looking lips against Dave’s. 

“Nmmf,” Dave whimpered, moving his leg up Bro’s thigh, hooking it on his hip and practically trying to climb up on him. Bro was still so strong and hard, and it wiped all the stress of that bloody image from Dave's mind. 

Bro was just starting to really grope his backside when there was a knock at the door. Dave jolted in surprise and looked around at the front door, confused. “Did you order something?” he asked, still breathing hard.

“I’m not even sure I can use phones,” Bro replied, giving Dave’s ass a final squeeze before letting him go. Dave moved to the door, his gait uncomfortable with the erection he was sporting, and looked through the peephole.

John, Rose, and Jade were all outside crowded around the door, distorted in the fisheye lens of the peephole.

“Oh shit...” he muttered. That’s right, the stupid séance thing. He’d totally forgotten about that.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said there would only be one more chapter. But. I think I have to dedicate a full one to ghost sex. I'm sorry. This is getting absurd.

He looked back at Bro, who was sitting on the futon again and looking back at Dave. Super unhelpful. Okay, the best way to play this was probably to let them all see him and they’d see that a seance wasn’t even necessary. Maybe they’d be be weirded out enough to just leave.

Dave swallowed and opened the door.

“There he is!” said Jade, “We’ve been calling you, we were afraid you wouldn’t be here or something.” 

“Oh, yeah, I think my phone’s dead or something, “Dave said, opening the door wider for them and wondering what they’d say about his dead brother sitting in the middle of the room.

“If it were dead it wouldn’t ring before it sent us to voicemail,” Rose said, stepping into the apartment. She was carrying a deep purple tote bag that was bulging with contents.

“I brought snacks!” John said, muscling his way past the rest to put his grocery bags on the counter. “And Ghostbusters and Ghostbusters 2 and Poltergeist and Ghost. It’s gonna be so awesome.”

Dave stood with his hands in his pockets, waiting for them to notice the elephant in the room, which was taking way too long. He glanced over to Bro, who was smirking. 

“Did you think they’d be able to see me?” he asked. Indeed, Rose’s eyes were sweeping the room quite thoroughly, and her gaze had passed Bro over at least twice. “I’m haunting you. And just you.” Great.

“Can’t you make them see you or something?” Dave asked, trying to keep his voice low. 

“Huh?” Jade said, looking confused.

“Nothing, just...uh...nothing,” Dave said. At least the arrival of his friends had killed his boner. Now its ghost could chill with Bro or something. And he was stuck here in a really fucking bizarre and awkward situation. “So what’re y’all gonna do?”

“Well, we’ll need to wait till it gets completely dark. It would be best to wait till the witching hour, which is traditionally 3AM, but I think we can cut a few corners for the sake of convenience,” Rose said, crossing the room to the futon. It looked like she was about to sit right in Bro’s lap, but at the last second he slid out of the way, standing up and putting his hands in his pockets. 

“Hey I’ll let you have some fun with your pals, okay?” he said, watching Dave chew on his tongue, unable to say anything to him. “I’m gonna go chill on the roof for awhile.” And without another look he slipped through the door before Jade shut it closed. 

“Dave it’s so cold in here!” Jade complained, wrapping her arms around herself, “Where’s the thermostat?” 

“Over there,” Dave pointed. He didn’t actually know how to work it. He realized he hadn’t even tried since he moved back in. He just kept forgetting. “Okay so we wait for it to get dark and then what?” he said, sitting down next to Rose on the futon.

“Dave where are the big bowls?” John shouted from the kitchen amidst the sound of rustling plastic and foil. Dave ignored him as Rose spoke again.

“Well, we’ll light some candles, join hands, and call forth the bothersome spirit,” she said, taking a few bundles of black candles out of the bag. “We’ll ask for signs of their presence, and then use my ouija board.” She removed an ornate wooden board from the bag and placed it on her knees, setting down a heart-shaped silver piece with a glass window in the center.

“This sounds lame and unoriginal,” Dave said.

“It’s classic. And besides, this isn’t about actually calling forth spirits. It’s more about the psychology of the ritual.”

“Yeah, right. So why do we have to do it at all?”

“Well, I hope it will act like a sort of placebo. A fake exorcism for a fake ghost, to ease your mind,” Rose said, “Plus, I think it could ease some stress. And the ouija board is always interesting to use with a varied group such as ourselves.”

Dave felt his blood run cold. “An exorcism?” he repeated. Oh shit. 

“You don’t have any bowls,” John complained, walking to the futon with an armful of chip and pretzel bags, “I guess we’ll just have to eat them out of the bags. And there’s those weird puppets in the microwave.” Damnit. Bro was still spreading those fucking things around. Dave had cleaned the puppets out of there twice this week.

“Yeah, you didn’t clean up much,” Jade said, having returned from her attempts to make the apartment warmer.

“There used to be way more swords,” John said, looking for somewhere to put the snacks before just setting them on the floor. “And the puppets aren’t as spread out I guess.”

“At least he’s made some efforts,” Rose said, taking a box of incense out of the bag, “We should wait a bit before starting. John, why don’t you put one of your movies in?”

“Yessss,” John said, jumping back up and stepping on one of the bags with a crunch. “Oops. Uh, hmm, should we watch Ghostbusters 1 or 2 first? Hey, when did you start drinking orange soda?” He picked up the full, open bottle that Bro had set on the arm of the futon. “Bluh, it’s flat.”

“Oh yeah, guess I forgot I opened it,” Dave said, avoiding Rose’s concerned gaze. This wasn’t really doing much for the image of his sanity. She probably thought he was so consumed with grief that he’d started drinking the shittiest beverage known to man just because Bro used to drink it. “Just pour it out.”

“Let’s watch Ghost,” Jade said, wedging herself between Dave and Rose and picking up a bag of Doritos, “I’m in the mood for a love story.”

\-----

The movie was kind of terrible and kind of cool. Dave sort of felt bad that Demi Moore couldn’t see or fuck Patrick Swayze. He guessed he had to count himself lucky. Like he didn’t do that every time Bro showed up again and touched him with those skilled hands.

He hadn’t been able to totally focus though. He couldn’t stop thinking about the “fake exorcism,” Rose was planning. Would it really work? Would her fake seance banish Dave’s real ghost brother away somehow? He couldn’t really bring it up without seeming even crazier. He’d seemed doubtful when he’d first talked to Rose about this, but that had been before Bro showed himself and gave him a BJ. If he suddenly seemed totally into this idea that his house was haunted and he didn’t want it unhaunted, Rose would probably just think he’d slipped further into his delusions.

The best he could hope for was that this plan was totally doomed to failure, or else that Bro was too stubborn to let a bunch of teenager’s ouija-fumblings send him away.

“Alright, it’s quite dark out, let’s get started,” Rose announced as the credit music faded out. She stood up and began setting candles around the room, lighting each one and taking time to consider its aesthetic appeal. 

“Hey don’t put anything on that,” Dave said when she tried to set one on the turntables. That was a one-way ticket to angering a very bitchy spirit. 

“My apologies,” Rose said with a deep, sarcastic bow and put the candle on top of a speaker instead. “John will you please move the snacks?”

“Do we have to do this? Ghost really bummed me out. I wanna watch Ghostbusters now,” John said as he cleared the snacks out of the middle of the floor with a sloppy sweep of his arm.

“Yes!” Jade said, helping John move the bags into a more manageable pile. “I’ve never done a seance before, I wanna see what it’s like.”

“Well pretty much nothing will happen ‘cause this isn’t a movie,” John said, pouting a little.

“I don’t know why you boys are so opposed to a little fun. It won’t take more than a half hour or so. If anything our eyes need a rest from the TV screen for a bit,” Rose said, lighting the last of the candles and setting it in the center of the floor. “Alright, let’s all get in a circle around the candle here.” 

Dave tried not to look as pissy as John was being as he moved into the circle between John and Jade. He gazed down at the flickering flame on top of the black candle, rather glad that he’d sort of closed The Case of the Mysterious Dead Brother. If not this would be a hell of a lot more difficult. He could just imagine his palms sweating as he tried not to hope his brother would show up in the middle of a stupid seance. 

“Alright, please remember that while we are extremely unlikely to encounter any actual spirits, the reason seances were believed to have merit was due to the skill of the medium and the open-mindedness of the participants”” Rose said, sitting on her knees and holding her hands out on either side of her. “Let us join hands so that our combined energy may better attract the spirits.”

“Ugggggggghhhhhh,” John groaned, rolling his eyes and holding his hands out. Dave pursed his lips and slipped his hand as lightly into John’s as he could. Jade latched onto the other one tightly, swinging it a little. 

“No homo,” John said in a quiet, snickering voice. 

“I would like for us each to open our minds to the possibilities of a world beyond the physical,” Rose began, drowning out John with a loud, clear voice, “Everyone close your eyes and focus your thoughts on the feeling of the hands in yours. Sense the warmth and pulse. Ghosts are attracted to life.” Didn’t Dave know that.. 

“Spirits, we invoke your presence, we ask you to make yourselves known,” Rose said in a suddenly monotonous drone. Dave tried to concentrate on the flickering red light of the candle against his eyelids rather than Jade’s squeezing grip or John’s fluttery touches.

“Give us a sign to show that you are here and can understand us,” Rose continued. Dave wondered what Bro was doing up there. Could he tell that a bunch of kids were trying to summon him? Was it like an immediate pull that relocated him downstairs? Or did it feel like an irritating prickle on the back of his neck while he tried to mind his own business and smoke a ghost cigarette? Or maybe he had no idea what was going on and this was totally useless.

“Dave, cut it out,” John hissed next to him. Dave didn’t know what he was talking about. he couldn’t hold his hand any lighter. 

“I’m not doing anything.” he whispered back, trying to loosen his grip anyway so that John’s hand was just twitching like a nearly-dead fish in his open palm.

“Any sign at all,” Rose said more loudly, clearly trying to speak over John and Dave’s asshatery, “Knock on a wall or blow out a candle, these are just a few examples.”

“Dude, quit it! It’s not funny” John’s voice came again, quieter but sharper. Dave was starting to get annoyed.

“Quit what!?” he asked with a definite tone of irritation.

“Quit-” John lowered his voice even more, “Quit touching my butt!”

“I’m not touching your butt, I’m holding your hand, idiot,” Dave said, opening his eyes when he realized what must be going on. Indeed, when he turned to look at John, there was Bro, kneeling behind John and feeling up his backside. God damnit.

“Don’t be jealous,” Bro said to Dave as he dodged John swiping his arm behind him and whirling around, “Your friend’s got just about the liveliest rump I’ve ever seen.” He moved away from John’s flailing arms to settle behind Dave instead, and Dave could feel his cold hand sneaking over to rest on his own ass. “Not that I don’t like yours best of all.” Dave swallowed. 

Rose had been talking this whole time he’d been watching Bro and wishing he could tell him to get the hell out without looking crazy. “You know, there are better times for you two to grope each other,” she said as she let go of Jade’s hand to fuss with the placement of the candle.

“We weren’t groping each other!” John said, picking up a yellow smuppet that had been behind him. “Um, I think I accidentally just sat on this thing, sorry.” He chucked the plush into the box Dave had been stuffing in the corner.

“Dude, I’m hella insulted,” Dave said, trying to ignore Bro’s squeezing fingers, “Why didn’t you assume Rose was the one-... feeling you up?”

“Rose is too classy for that sort of thing,” John said, crossing his arms and sitting back down.

“You didn’t spend years with her on the meteor,” Dave grumbled, trying not to squirm in Bro’s persistent grip. “Stop,” he whispered desperately. Bro finally let up, his goal apparently to make Dave say something out loud. What a fucking asshole.

‘What? Okay I’m sorry, for not thinking Rose is sleazy enough, jeez.” 

“Ahem,” Rose cleared her throat. She was giving Dave a strange look, and Dave couldn’t really blame her. Didn’t anyone else feel Bro’s presence? It was fucking overwhelming even when he wasn’t touching Dave. 

Bro stepped into and out of the circle as he walked to the kitchen, causing the candle to flicker as he passed.

“Oh!” said Jade, pointing to the flame, “The candle did a thing! Does that count as a sign?” 

“I suppose its as good as any,” said Rose, turning to reach behind her. “Really Dave, I thought you didn’t like these puppets, why do you keep them all over the place?” she asked, pulling both one of the smuppets and the ouija board out from behind her.

“Didn’t you say you liked them? Maybe you should take some.” 

“Hm? Really?” she asked, looking over the deep purple puppet.

“That’ll be forty bucks,” Bro called from the kitchen. He opened the fridge, but the light inside wasn’t turning on. And it’d probably be closed by the time Dave had drawn attention to it.

“Yeah, go nuts,” Dave replied.

“Thanks, that’s very generous of you,” Rose said, planting the smuppet in her lap and setting the board in the center of the circle by the candle. “Let’s move on shall we, now that we are in the presence of one that has moved beyond.”

“This is so exciting,” Jade said, scooting in closer, “So what do we do? Is one of us going to be possessed? Can it be me?”

“I’m sorry Jade, that’s not how it works unless we’re dealing with an extremely evil spirit,” Rose said, putting the silver thing in the center of the board.

 _We are dealing with an extremely evil spirit,_ thought Dave as he watched Bro hop up to sit on the counter with another bottle of flat orange soda and then holding up his fist to his mouth to make a dick-sucking gesture.

“We will all place our hands on the planchette and invoke the spirit once more. With luck we can communicate more precisely with it, as it will point to letters using the combined movement our our energy.” Rose said, holding up two fingers on each hand, “Use both hands to touch the planchette with both your fingers.”

Jade’s hands eagerly joined Rose’s on the planchette, and John’s followed after encouragement from Jade. Dave gave Bro a warning glance and put his own fingers on the planchette last. 

“Spirit,” Rose began in that overdramatic monotone again, “Are you here?”

Nothing happened. The planchette stayed at the bottom of the board, motionless.

“It could take a bit,” Rose said, “Focus your energy once more on feeling the answers coming into your mind.” She took a deep breath and stared at the ouija board, “Spirit, are you with us?”

This was so dumb. Dave was about to call this useless crap off when he felt the planchette jerk slightly under his fingers. He looked up, but Bro was still on the counter holding his orange soda and not drinking it. He shrugged.

Dave looked down at the board as Jade gave a small squeal of excitement when the planchette began to move. “Who’s moving it?” Dave asked.

“Not me!” John was quick to say as the pointer drifted across the surface towards “YES.”

“Don’t think about who is moving it,” Rose said. She was intently watching the movement of the planchette, “It is an automatic response that all of us are experiencing together. Just let it happen.”

Finally the pointer came to rest over the “YES” in the corner of the board. 

“Who are we communicating with?” Rose asked, licking her lips.

After a moment the planchette began to move again, sliding across the board under all their fingers. It came to rest on “S.” 

“S!” Jade said aloud before the planchette shifted directions, pausing on “P” Jade called that letter out as well.

“S-P-O...” the planchette started to leave the “O” and then came back to rest on the same letter, “Um, O again, K-Y....G-H-O-S-T!”

“Spooky ghost?” Dave said, looking up at Rose.

“Pffft,” John snorted and then dissolved into giggles. “Okay sorry, that was me!”

“Misrepresentation,” Bro’s voice came in Dave’s ear, and he felt a strong cold hand covering his own. 

“Please John, I would think you of all people would have more respect for ghostbusting,” Rose said. It seemed like she was about to say more when the planchette began to move again, returning to “S.” Dave tried to elbow Bro as subtly as possible, but Bro just pressed his chest against Dave’s back and nuzzled the side of his head again.

“S,” Jade recited, “E-X-Y-G-H-O-S-T, John!” 

“It’s not me this time I promise!” 

“Who are you?” Rose asked.

“Y-O-U-R-M-O-M.”

“I...uhm,” Rose took her hands off the planchette, clearly shaken.

“Shit, not cool,” Dave muttered. 

“Huh?” Bro said, “Oh, shit, no I didn’t mean...” His hand tightened on Dave’s wrist as he began to move the planchette again. 

“J-K” Jade said, “Rose are you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” she replied, flustered, “It seems we are dealing with a rather insensitive spirit.” She placed her fingers back on the planchette. “Why are you here?”

Dave bit his tongue as he endured the sensation of Bro pressed up against him and directing his hand. This was so terrible. 

“W-A-N-T-M-Y-4-0-B-U-X” Jade called the letters out as the planchette moved quicker, flying around the board between letters.

“Huh?” John said. He was clearly perplexed now that he wasn’t guiding the planchette himself. Rose ploughed on.

“Will you rest and leave this place once you have received your forty dollars?”

“V-I-B-R-A-T-I-N-G-M-O-D-E-L-S-C-O-S-T-E-X-T-R-A. Oh! Is he talking about the smuppets?”

“Uh...” Dave said, not sure how to play this. Everyone clearly thought he was the one doing this, and he sort of was since it was his hand Bro’s was on.

Rose took one hand off of the planchette to examine the smuppet in her lap, and after squeezing the base of the nose jumped a bit when it began to quiver violently. “Ah...how much extra?” She asked, squeezing again and finding that the vibration didn’t seem to want to turn off.

“2-0”

“Will you be at peace once the transaction has been completed?” Rose said, still fumbling with the smuppet and trying to turn it off.

“S-U-R-E-W-H-A-T-E-V-S”

“No,” Dave said involuntarily, panicked suddenly at the mere mention of Bro resting in peace. Everyone turned to look at him. “Uh...I mean...how the hell are we supposed to give a ghost money?”

“Maybe we’re supposed to burn it?” Jade suggested.

“No way!” John said, pulling his hands away. “I’m not burning my hard-earned money.”

“Not even to help a friend with a haunted house?” Rose said, giving John a pointed look.

“Uh...I mean...I guess if you really think it’ll help.” It was clear that Rose had talked to John about Dave’s possibly precarious mental state. Fucking great, now everyone thought he was crazy.

“Jade, John and I will each put in twenty dollars. And by burning it, your brother will have completed one final transaction and traverse to the other side.”

“Are they seriously doing this?” Bro said, “Pretty sure that’s not gonna do shit. It’s just gonna go off to dollar heaven, or dollar hell if it was drug money at some point.” He was still leaning heavily against Dave’s back. Dave had to push back with a good deal of force to make sure he didn’t fall forward onto the ouija board. 

“You guys this is dumb,” Dave said, “I get it. Like, this is going to act as something to calm my restless soul and has nothing to do with ghosts or whatever. Why don’t you just give me the sixty bucks and I’ll take it as payment not to talk about how my place is haunted anymore?” 

“I’d rather burn the money than give it to you,” John said.

“Wow, fuck you.”

Rose cleared her throat again, forever attempting to keep things on track. “Dave you may not think this will do anything, but I firmly believe that this will help settle your unconscious.”

“Whatever,” Dave said, and gave a hard shove back to try and get Bro to step off. But he was suddenly gone, and Dave nearly fell over with his absence.

“Dave?” Jade said, looking worried.

“I’m fine just uh...overcome with emotion,” Dave replied, looking around for Bro, but he was nowhere to be seen. Jerk.

“See, that’s a start,” Rose said, pleased. She finally got the smuppet to stop vibrating and put it in her totebag. She pulled her purse out of it and removed a crisp 20-dollar bill. Jade found a ten and two fives, and John fished around in his wallet for two fives, nine singles, and a handful of change. 

“Uh, I don’t know how we’re going to burn the change,” he said.

“I’ll use it to buy a bag of Cheetos,” Dave said, “I’m sure Bro would have wanted it that way.”

“Should we do it on the roof?” Jade asked, standing up. She was clearly excited about all this ritual stuff. “I mean since that’s where he spent a lot of time, and it probably wouldn’t be a good idea to burn it in here.”

“No,” Dave said automatically. Letting his friends go up on the roof felt like a violation, somehow. That was his and Bro’s space. “Let’s do it on the fire escape. He spent a lot of time there too, trust me.” 

Bro was sitting on the steps leading to the roof when they all clambered out onto the metal fire escape. If he had been alive Dave might have been nervous about their combined weight. But as it was, he just took his place opposite the stairs so Bro couldn’t sneak up behind him again.

Unfortunately, John kneeled down in their little circle right in front of him, and Dave could totally see Bro checking him out.

“Seriously, have you seen this thing? It’s like a big fat cushion whose only purpose is pushin’. I mean damn, can I just get one more feel?” he asked.

Dave shook his head. John might startle and fall off or something. Also he didn’t fucking want Bro touching his friend’s ass.

Bro huffed and stood up, turning to ascend the stairs.

“Wha-what is that?” John said, looking behind him as the staircase rattled.

“Wind,” Dave replied, “Now come on, are we going to waste this money or what?”

“Right,” Rose said, arranging her skirt around her, “Dave, place the money in the bowl.”

Dave put the fifty-nine dollars into the cereal bowl they had brought out and Jade opened a lighter.

“Do you smoke?” John asked, looking at Jade with suspicion.

“Not everything you need a lighter for is bad,” Jade said, rolling her eyes.

“Jade, set the money aflame,” Rose said, and then held her hands out to Dave and John. “Spirit, please accept this offering of sixty dollars in exchange for your vibrating plush.”

Dave took her hand and Jade’s, watching the flame lick at the corner of one of the bills. He could have bought like 3 pizzas with that money. 

“Leave this place,” Rose continued, closing her eyes and turning her face skywards, “Take your money and rest your weary soul.”

“Oh yeah,” Bro yelled, looking down over the rim of the rooftop. Dave turned his own face up to look, “What’s really making me want to leave is that awful fuckin’ smell. Pretty sure y’all are committing a federal offense or some shit.” 

He spit, and Dave recoiled a bit in anticipation. But the wad of saliva fell right into the bowl. The fire sizzled a bit, but it was too late. The bills were blackened and crispy. A breeze picked one of the curled charred papers and carried it, still bright orange and burning along one edge, over the edge of the escape and into the air. 

“Goodbye money,” John sighed, then clapped his hands together, “Okay, for real now, Ghostbusters 2!”

\----

“Bye Dave, it’s so good to see you,” Jade said, crushing him in a hug, “You have to hang out with us more often.”

“I-will,” Dave wheezed.

“Yeah you have to come see me do stand-up next weekend,” John said, shuffling his DVD cases as he searched his pockets for his keys. “No heckling though, or I’ll murder you.”

“I hope you know you can talk to me about anything, Dave,” Rose said, holding her newly-purchased smuppet under her arm, “Please don’t hesitate to get in contact.

“Uh huh,” Dave replied, “Look it’s been real. I’ll see y’all later, okay?”

“Hehe, ‘y’all,’” John snickered. Dave shut the door.

He let out a heavy breath. He hadn’t seen Bro for the rest of the night, and it left him a bit uneasy. What if that bogus ritual had actually worked?

“Man, your friends are some nosy motherfuckers,” Bro’s voice said, his arms snaking around Dave’s waist.

“You’re really shitty at haunting people,” Dave said, “You’re worse than Old Man Whethers dressing up as a scarecrow to keep people away from the old mill. And we didn’t even have Jade’s lousy mutt with us.”

“Does that make you Daphne?” Bro asked, wasting no time in undoing Dave’s pants.

“No way, I’m definitely Fred. Or maybe that would be John, since he’s the leader or whatever. And Rose would be Velma, and I guess since Jade owns Bec she’d be Shaggy so I’d be....fuck.”

“Ever been fucked by a ghost?” Bro asked, his cold tongue on Dave’s ear, making him shudder.

“Oh god,” Dave whimpered, relaxing back against Bro.


	9. Chapter 9

Dave didn’t know why Bro insisted using his tiny bed for this. But the next thing he knew he was being shoved down against his mattress, his dead brother’s hands roaming over his chest. His skin broke out in almost unbearable goosebumps when Bro’s cold fingers slipped up under his shirt.

“Jesus, you’re way colder than usual.”

“Yeah, I think your weird goth friend’s little occult playtime actually fucked me up a little.”

“Wh-really?” Dave squirmed as he tried to get used to the sensation and comprehend that Rose actually did something. He had to make sure that never happened again.

“It’ll be okay as soon as I get some of your hot vitality juice,” Bro said, his lips, now the color of a dull bruise, closing over the edge of Dave’s jaw.

“Fuck,” Dave held on tight, his nails digging into Bro’s back.

And then he was holding nothing. His arms fell through the space where Bro had been to land limply on his lap on either side of the bulge in his jeans. 

“Wha- Bro, come back!” he whined. Why the hell did Bro have to keep doing shit like this? Every time it sent a sick wave of doubt through Dave, a terrible panic that he’d never see his brother again.

He felt himself being pushed back again, and let out a frustrated grunt as he hit the mattress. 

“What the shit are you doing?” he asked. He could feel Bro’s weight and low temperature on him, but all he could see was the ceiling of his room. “Dude this is so wei-”

Bro’s lips pushed against his, and Dave closed his eyes, trying not to think about how blue they would be if he could see them. Did this count as necrophilia? Probably not. Right?

He felt his pants being unbuttoned and opened his eyes again. Bro was still kissing him, but he could see right down to where his fly was separating as if of its own accord. “Holy shit, this is so weird,” he muttered as he felt Bro’s mouth leave his. He could feel the ghost moving down, sliding to seat himself between Dave’s legs.

Dave watched in mingled horror and horny fascination as his pants scooted down and his cock seemed to jump out of his underwear like it had a mind of its own. It did sometimes of course, but it didn’t usually insinuate itself out of his pants. He probably would have been arrested for indecent exposure long ago if that was the case.

“Are you seriously gonna-uhnn.” Bro’s invisible hand wrapped around him, causing a whole new wave of shivers. “Fuck.” He watched as his cock throbbed, standing straight up in the air thanks to Bro’s support. Dave could see the flesh moving up and down as Bro pumped him. It was extremely unsettling, but it felt amazing despite the low temperature.

“This is too fucked up, Bro please....” he said, but it was too late, he could already feel cold lips and Bro’s wet, soft tongue around him. He could only watch the way his cock was compressed as it was jammed in the back of Bro’s throat for a few moments before he had to look away, gasping in ecstasy. He laid an arm over his eyes while his other hand groped for Bro’s hair. But he just passed through air. Apparently Bro could touch him but he couldn’t touch Bro. This was seriously bizarre.

“Fff-fuck, Bro, I...please,” he said, shutting his eyes tight as the cold suction spoiled his cock to the point of overstimulation. He wanted to touch Bro, to hold him even if he was weird and dead-looking and offered no warmth. The asshole was definitely torturing him like this on purpose. 

“Shit, fuck me, please,” he begged, still automatically trying to grab hold of his brother. Not a moment later, he could feel cold, mysteriously pre-lubed fingers probing at his ass. and he suddenly tensed. Maybe this was a bad idea. He’d experimented with his butt in the past, but...he hadn’t even seen Bro’s ghost-dick, only felt the vague, huge outline. 

It was hard to protest when he could already feel two slicked up fingers inside him, twisting and curling and making Dave’s head spin. “Aggghn fuck.”

The fingers slipped out, and there was a heavy hand on his shoulder, pushing down. He opened his eyes and still only saw his ceiling as he felt the tip of something large pressing against him.

“Please let me see you,” he whined as he felt himself being invaded. And suddenly Bro was there, filling Dave’s sight, his arms, his body. It was overwhelming, and Dave moaned loudly. It was almost uncomfortably cold, but it felt so good, and it barely ached like he’d been afraid of. Ghost magic or some shit.

“You like my wraith-cock, Dave?” Bro said in a low, husky voice. Dave groaned. Couldn’t Bro be romantic for once?

“Shit, yes, your undead dick is the best.” Dave held on as tight as he could as that massive, chilled member began to slide in and out, hitting his prostate with a heavy, delicious pressure every time. 

As Bro continued to thrust into him and kiss his neck and face, Dave could feel his brother’s whole body start to warm up. Whether it was just due to friction or a transfer of vital energy, he wasn’t sure, and it this point he didn’t give a single fuck. 

“God Bro, I’m gonna come...fuck me,” He tightened his fists in Bro’s hair, kissing his warming skin all over and marveling as as it seemed to gain more color. His lips were becoming more and more reddish and natural looking, and Dave pressed his own against them desperately. He shut his eyes as he felt tears starting to prickle at them, either a result of the intense pleasure or the thought of Bro being fully alive again.

“I fuckin’ love you Dave, I can’t leave you alone, no matter how many times I die.” 

That did it, Dave was coming hard, his entire body tensing up around Bro, almost painfully. His brother was practically burning now, his skin searing hot as semen splattered across both their chests. A powerful wave of euphoria washed over Dave as he relaxed, his arms still looped around Bro’s neck.

Before he knew it Bro was slipping out of him, bending down to lick the jizz off Dave’s chest, lapping it up hungrily with a warm, comforting tongue. Dave groaned with exhaustion and post-orgasmic arousal at the sight. Bro looked fully alive now, and it almost hurt his heart to see him like that. “Holy shit,” he breathed.

“Sure, that counts as ‘I love you too,’” Bro said, now wiping cum off his own chest and sucking it off his fingers.

“I mean...yeah, obviously,” Dave replied, watching him with hazy eyes, “Love you.” He was quickly beginning to feel exhausted. It had been a long night, and that session of truly bizarre anal ghost sex had really capped it off nicely.  
\--------  
Bro’s body was gradually cooling off as Dave lay in bed, his brother’s arm over his waist. Dawn was approaching, and the weight of Bro against him seemed to be getting lighter and lighter. He would be gone when Dave woke up, and Dave couldn’t help but dread it. He would be back at night though, probably even more hungry for inter-vital fucking. 

Dave’s mind drifted to the seance as he began to nod off. He wondered if there was any way to get his friends to believe him about Bro. They were going to have to accept that Dave was dating his dead brother sooner or later, because there was no way he was giving this up, no matter how crazy they thought he was.

Dave shut his brain off, as he felt Bro’s body chill a few more degrees wanting to fall asleep before he disappeared again. He was certain he would return when the sun set.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I briefly toyed with the idea of it actually all being in Dave's head, of all the things his friends experienced being explained by coincidence and Dave's wishful thinking. I decided I couldn't do that though, and I like real ghosts better than fake ghosts. That still might be possible, if you really want to torture Dave like that, poor kid.
> 
> That's it! Sorry it took so long to finish. This Halloween story went all the way into the new year. Writing has been getting more and more difficult for me, and I feel I may be losing the spark. I hope that wasn't evident in this story, and I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
